


A Simple Task

by TheConfusedTurtle



Series: A Simple Task AU [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters SPECIAL | Pokemon Adventures
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, a self-indulgent au, kind of a silly story tbh, with some angst sometimes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2020-12-24 11:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21098819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheConfusedTurtle/pseuds/TheConfusedTurtle
Summary: “A simple task it was, when given to me, but it so quickly became much more than that. And there is no one to blame for that but me.” Lack-Two, an assassin raised to do nothing but obey his orders, is given a task by his master and promised a high reward for its completion. Yet something else manages to draw his attention away.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After two months of debating with myself about sharing this story, I decided I will and we’ll see how it goes.  
A year ago, I started A Simple Task on Wattpad (and the oldest draft is still there…), completed it, and let it sit there for a long time before I finally convinced myself to start editing it and share it in other places. While this is the most recent draft, it’s still not perfect and the changes I’ve made to it are probably still subject to more change. Even so, I hope you will find the story interesting and enjoyable, because I sure do enjoy writing it. So, without further ado…

Lack-Two never would have imagined that finding the Princess would be so hard and so frustrating. He had never been sent after such a high-ranking member of society and the royal family. No one told him they would be so hard to find.

But maybe he should have known. He had been apart of this scheme for years, and now the duty to finish it rested on his shoulders. 

Like it always did.

He grumbled to himself and shouldered his leather pack. Walking all day had made it heavy on his aching shoulders, and his feet were doing no better. They screamed for him to sit down and rest, but he pushed on -- putting one foot forward, then the next, though his steps were starting to drag. The city couldn't be too much farther ahead. Or so he hoped.

The sun's last rays soon faded completely, allowing the midnight blue of the night sky to swallow up the brighter colors of day. With the dark came the waxing moon and its stars; and as weary as he was, Lack-Two found an odd comfort in the pale moonlight.

He came to a stop, the gravel of the old path scraping beneath his boots. Frowning, he tried to calculate just how far he was from the city gates, but he couldn't see anything besides the old trees of the forest, their long, twisted limbs groaning in the wind.

The assassin released a heavy sigh—for the umpteeth time that day—and tried squinting at the darkness, as though this would lighten his surroundings. But he was no mage, and thus the darkness remained and his eyes were only strained.

"And what good would it do if I died of exhaustion before even making it to my destination?" he muttered to himself and the silence that accompanied him. 

He shouldered his pack again when it began to slip down his shoulder. He couldn't deny the exhaustion creeping into his every move, and he couldn't bear the thought of collapsing from it. So, he listened to his need for sleep for once.

He walked far from the worn, gravel path, pushing aside tree limbs at head-level and traipsing through untamed foliage. Brushing aside one last branch as the sky grew darker and the stars grew brighter, he found himself in a clearing where the trees had thinned out and the grass lay flattened as though some large beast used to rest there often.

The quiet of the forest air calmed him as he breathed it in. The dim light of the moon, reflecting off the stream before him, bathed everything in a soft glow, giving the forest an ethereal appearance.

To say he was at peace was a rare thing for Lack-Two, but there, he found that he was. It put his nagging thoughts to rest, for just this once.

He dropped his heavy bag of supplies on the grass and took a seat beside it, releasing a deep sigh as he rubbed his shoulder where the strap of the bag had sat for so long. Tilting his head back, he gazed at the sky through the canopy of reddening leaves. The stars seemed brighter than usual, but he knew very little about them. Perhaps it was only his imagination. He let his eyes slide closed, letting himself relax for only a moment.

For the first time in many years, a smile played at his lips -- as there was no one there to see it.

Rustling grass and soft footsteps yanked him out of his peaceful silence. His expression of contentment faded as his auburn eyes snapped open, flicking in the direction of the sound. Instinctively, his fingers brushed against the hilt of the dagger at his side, but he remained still otherwise.

A mutter, a whisper, alerted him to the presence of another person and not a wild beast of the forest. It was then that he twisted himself towards the direction of the sound, slowly drawing the sharp blade.

"If this isn't it, I'll turn back. Yes. That's what I'll do. Everyone's so touchy. I'm not a complete fool." A young woman pushed her way out of the underbrush of the forest, brushing dirt and leaves from her cloaked form, muttering to herself all the while. Behind her, came the lithe form of a white cat, its tail swishing back and forth as it patiently listened to the woman's rambling.

Lack-Two furrowed his brow, letting the dagger slide back into its sheath. The girl seemed oblivious to his presence, only looking around at the area she had stumbled upon, her fingers brushing against the trees. Her expression was unreadable beneath her dark hood, but he could sense her disappointment as clearly as though she had voiced it.

She pulled her hand back and tapped her chin, thin bracelets of gold on her wrists clinking together. "I believe I've done it again..." Her gaze shifted from her surroundings to the place where Lack-Two sat, and finally she took notice of him. She let her hand fall to her side and he noticed that something in her demeanor changed. Something he could not quite place. She pushed her shoulders back and stood straighter, clasping her hands together and lifting her chin.

However, the cat arched its back and hissed, clearly displeased with Lack-Two's very existence.

"Forgive him," the young girl said, almost immediately. Her regal aura melted away as she scooped the cat off the ground and stroked his white fur. "He's rude, picky about who he likes, and very protective. Kind of stupid, too. Foongy, we talked about this."

Lack-Two rose from his place in the grass, finally releasing his weapon, deciding she was no threat. He said nothing, simply watched as she stroked the cat's head until his growling turned to rumbling purrs, his eyes sliding closed. Satisfied, she pulled her hood back from her round face, the moonlight illuminating her pale skin. He barely noticed when she dropped the cat and let him scamper off into the trees.

"If you don't mind, may I ask what you're doing here?" She turned her head back to him once the cat was gone, her deep blue eyes meeting his. "You're so far from the road; you're not lost, are you?"

He looked away from her. "I could ask the same of you."

The woman stiffened, her bracelets clinking together as she drew her hands closer to her chest. Her lips were tightly sealed, and the faint redness in her cheeks told him all he needed to know.

Knowing he would get no response out of her after that, he decided to answer her question regardless. "I'm just a traveler." He nodded to his bag, hoping she would buy his explanation. Telling people you're here to assassinate their Princess never went well, this he knew. "I'm on my way to the capital city, Crocea."

The slightest semblance of a frown appeared on her lips, her thin brows drawing together. She mulled over his simple words for a time. "Have you come for the Princess's coronation then?"

Lack-Two shifted his gaze to the sky above once more, the endless darkness of it easing the flicker of nervousness in his chest until it faded completely. Absently, he found himself running his thumb over a particularly large scar on his hand. "You could say that, I suppose."

The grass shifted as she stepped a little closer to the tree, letting her hand rest against its rough, cracking bark. "Crocea isn't far—you could make it by early afternoon if you left in the morning and followed the road. I do recommend resting for the night. I assume that's what you're doing?"

He nodded. 

"Be safe then."

"And you? What are you doing here?" He tilted his head to the side, eyeing her look of surprise at his question. "Isn't it late for a lady to wander alone?"

"Well..." she shuffled her feet, clearing her throat. Her gaze shifted away. "I shouldn't be here, not this far, but I need... time alone. I was looking for a certain place, somewhere that I've only been able to find once. A place in the forest that comforts and brings the wanderer peace that nothing can compete with. It's said to heal too." She sighed, her shoulders drooping. "Sadly, I've not found it."

Lack-Two raised an eyebrow. He had never heard of such a place in Niveus. The kingdom was said to hold strange magic, but there were no records of shifting terrain and places that disappeared. That sounded more like the regions of Théus to him. Perhaps it was a dream the girl convinced herself was reality.

Shouts in the distance -- words he could not make out -- called the young woman to attention before he could ask any more. She stiffened and pulled her hood up again, concealing the intricate braid of her chestnut brown locks.

"I'll be going then. I wish you luck and... perhaps we'll meet again." Without another word, she dashed off into the darkness of the forest, leaving him to wonder.

For the time, he decided to put her out of his mind and get some much needed sleep, which came to him as soon as his eyes had fallen shut, letting him dream of Niveus's strange magic.


	2. Chapter 2

Just as the woman had said, Lack-Two arrived in Crocea early the following afternoon. Though some part of him had almost forgotten why he had come there in the first place. He kept thinking about what the woman had told him, and of how strange it was that he should meet her there at all. 

Perhaps it was only the strange will of fate, and it was best if he didn't worry about it.

The guards at the city gates asked for no form of identification as they opened the gates for him. One nodded to him, while the other welcomed him to Niveus's capital city. He said nothing in return as he passed, finally setting foot into the busy streets of the city.

The palace stood tall and daunting at the opposite end of the city, surrounded by a second wall and perhaps more heavily guarded than the outer wall. It's towers overlooked the land which its ruler protected, and there was something strangely intimating about it. The winding, cobblestone streets that led towards it were lined with shops and cottages of varying sizes. People were going about their own business, chatting in small groups or purchasing things from the marketplace. 

All so blissfully oblivious. He couldn't help but stare, marveling at their peaceful ways.

Seeing no benefit in trying to meddle with crowds, Lack-Two makes his way along the outer wall. While he had already entered the city (and with such ease that it began to bother him), he still went about his task of marking the position of the guards. It had changed very little in the last six years, meaning it had the same blind spots.

How naive could the Princess really be? Or did she simply not care? 

Footsteps rapidly approaching drew him out of his trance. He wrenched his gaze from the wall just as a figure collided with him and threatened to knock him over, yet he balanced himself and managed to avoid such a consequence.

"Sorry, sorry!" The woman pushed herself away from him and dusted her clothes as though she had fallen. Bracelets clinked on her wrist, and her voice was familiar to him. She lifted her gaze from herself and met his eyes.

A moment of recognition passed through both of them, and the blue of her eyes almost seemed to light up as she came to.

"You're that man I met last night," she stated in a tone that suggested it was more for herself than him. The corners of her mouth turned up in a smile, making her seem all the more innocent. "So you did make it here safely; I wondered about you."

"I did," he said simply, sliding his hands into his pockets. "I see you're still acting awfully questionable."

"Questionable?" She blinked and clasped her hands over her chest. "Oh, no, no. See, I lost Foongy—my cat—in the crowd and he won't respond when I call for him." She shifted to look towards the crowd she spoke of, the very place Lack-Two himself had avoided. 

There were very few people where they stood near the outer wall, as most were gathered closer to the palace. Perhaps wishing for a glimpse of their Princess—the rumor was no one had seen her since the death of the King and Queen. She had become quite aloof, but Lack-Two couldn't help but wonder if it was by choice or by order. 

But it was none of his business, so why did he bother?

Well, he supposed it was his business to know now, if he was going to get to her.

"Actually, do you think you could help me look for him?" The woman asked, turning her back on the wall when one of the guards looked her way. She put her hand up to block the guard's view of her face. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Oh? You would trust someone you don't know then?"

"You're rather strange, but you don't seem the least bit dangerous." With the wave of her hand, she dismissed him; having such confidence in her image of him.

He chuckled at the irony of her bold statement, but she seemed not to notice; having turned her gaze again to the crowd where her cat had supposedly disappeared. She fidgeted constantly with the bracelets around her wrist, which matched the gold ribbons intwined in her hair. He had time to spare for the moment, and more than enough motive to assist her—if curiousity counted as a motive. 

"Alright then," he said finally, catching her eye as she glanced at him over her shoulder. "I will help you look, but you must promise to do something in return for me."

Her eyes searched him up and down before landing on his face again, her lip twitching to form a frown. She pondered his request for a moment, then replied, "Anything reasonable."

"When we spoke last night, you mentioned you were searching for something; I have thought about it since. If I help you find this Foongy of yours, do you promise to answer my questions about this magic you're looking for?"

"That is all?" She narrowed her eyes at him and his odd proposition. It seemed much too simple to her, but he didn't seem to mind at all. With a firm nod, she agreed. "Alright then. I will tell you what I know once Foongy is found."

Easy enough. The cat had an ethereal glow to his fur, and though his black eyes were rather beady and unintelligent looking, they had a piercing quality to them all the same. Surely he would stand out, even buried in a sea of bodies. Perhaps even more so than the princess Lack-Two couldn't seem to find.

"Last I saw him he went... this way." The woman started off down the cobblestone path with determination, her skirts of blue so easily recognizable amongst the dimmer colors the rest wore. 

Still, he noticed she was constantly being ignored, even as she pushed her way past people and called out for the cat she was so attached to. It was almost as though he was the only one that saw her.

Thus he followed her, all the more curious about her.

She weaved her way through the people with ease thanks to her smaller size, heading closer and closer towards the palace and its wall. Lack-Two followed the path she carved, watching when she stopped and peered this way and that for her precious companion. The more she looked, the more eyes turned her way, and people began to mutter amongst themselves about the woman in the blue skirts with ribbons and bands of gold. 

They called her Whitley, he noticed, but she didn't respond to them. 

When they emerged in an open square, with the palace looming over them, the woman called Whitley released a sigh as she scuffed her boot across the ground in clear disappointment, kicking up dust. "I don't know where he could have gone, in such a hurry too."

Lack-Two readjusted the way his bag sat against his shoulder, having almost completely forgotten about it by then. "Does he do this often?"

She nodded. "As of late, yes. He seems so agitated. I don't know what could have set him on edge." She pressed her lips into a tight frown, her brows drawing together as she turned to face the palace. She inhaled, as though to speak, but stopped when something brushed against her leg. Looking down, she found the white cat at her feet, waving his tail back and forth and gazing up at her as though he were scolding her for letting him wander so far.

She gave a cry of childlike delight and scooped him up, smoothing down his ruffled fur with the soft stroke of her fingers. The movement caught the light of the sun, reflecting off of something wrapped around her pointer finger.

A ring of gold, with an intricate symbol carefully carved into its surface.

"Well, I suppose all's well that ends well. What is it you wanted to ask me?" She asked, cradling the cat in her arms as her focus returned to him. 

"Before that," he said, "that ring you wear. I feel as though I've seen it somewhere before."

It was faint, but he thought he could remember a night beneath an almost full moon, a time when he came to Niveus with others many years ago. He found a ring in the forest that night, and something told him it was this same one that she wore. 

But it was all so fuzzy, he couldn't be sure.

She looked down at it, a flicker of something unrecognizable to him passing over her features. "This one? Are you sure?" She shook her head as she lifted it to meet his gaze again. "You couldn't have."

He frowned, his hand slowly inching towards the little dagger at his waist. The symbol on the ring was familiar too; it was a symbol of royalty, that much he knew. "That ring belongs to the royal family—the Princess specifically. Why do you have it?"

The woman the people called Whitley shifted her gaze away, her arms closing tighter around the hissing ball of fur she held, looking like she wanted to bury herself somewhere. She covered the ring with her other hand, concealing it from his sight. "I..." She cringed at herself before facing him head on again. "Stole it?" 

She phrased it as a question, with a sheepish smile and a look in her eyes that said she knew she was lying (and doing it terribly). She even laughed a little to herself and kicked the ground again, fidgeting with the fur of her cat, who bared his sharp teeth at Lack-Two.

"T-they just haven't noticed yet!" she went on to say when he made no response, his hand closed tightly around a weapon she couldn't see, (but it seemed Foongy could). "That's just how... good I am. Please don't tell," she added in a murmur, her cheeks flushing.

Though her lies were obviously that, and he knew it, he let the dagger slide back into its sheath and released it, his hand falling back into its place at his side. For reasons unknown to him, he found himself smiling in a bitter way. "I see. Well then, you had best be careful. Someone could mistake you for the Princess, called Lady Whi-Two. You do... look a lot like her—or what they say she looks like."

For no one had seen her in some time, but the young woman did possess some of the same features as the Princess of Niveus. But while Lack-Two had his thoughts and a job weighing heavily on the back of his mind, he hesitated.

Even he would feel some semblance of hate for himself if he struck the wrong target.

Or so he assumed.

"I do, you say?" she muttered, turning her face away to the marketplace and the sounds of laughter and chatter, of coins clinking and voices calling, of footsteps against the cobblestone. Of people who had nothing to worry themselves about.

"You know..." The woman set Foongy down at her feet, and for once he stayed beside her, sitting and curling his tail around his muddied paws. Though his body relaxed, his glare remained fixed on Lack-Two. "I never did hear your name. Might you be so kind as to share it with me? If fate has decided to keep placing us in the other's path..."

Lack-Two didn't really have a name to give, for the thing he was called by was less of a name and more of a title—if even that. Though, she waited patiently, watching him with curiosity shining in her brilliant blue eyes.

"No," he replied, almost softly as he pitched his voice low. "Not yet. I don't really believe a name is as important as people seem to think it is, and clearly you feel the same. You have yet to share your own name."

Apparently amused, laughter spilled from her lips—surprising him so that he stared at her in bewilderment. She seemed so strangely at ease in his presence, the presence of a stranger.

For some reason, it left him feeling a little more at ease as well.

"Fair enough," she said when her laughter faded. Then, she smoothed down her skirts and cleared her throat before clasping her hands together, the tinkling of her bracelets already a pleasant familiarity to him. "There is a matter that I must attend to before I go on to answer your questions—as my thanks for your help. If you will wait for me over there at sundown, I shall come find you." Lifting a hand—the one with the ring on her finger—she pointed towards a fountain and the river of clear water that flowed from it. It stood far apart from the marketplace the two both seemed set on avoiding, and it brought little attention to itself. 

He nodded as she turned to leave, calling for Foongy to follow her. "Sundown, you say? Do you not fear being out at night?"

She paused in her tracks, casting a deliberate and quick glance over her shoulder. "I like to be out when the stars are. I find them fascinating."

_Fascinating, she says._

_ __ _

With that, she left him alone with an afternoon to himself. 

_ __ _

—

_ __ _

"Persistant, aren't we?"

_ __ _

Lack-Two raised his head to see the woman had come, just as the sun had begun to disappear behind the palace and its walls. Carelessly, he tossed the smooth stone he held into the river and dusted his hands off on his cloak, leaving behind a gray streak of dust against the dark colors he wore. She sat beside him, letting the tip of her black boots touch the water below as she leaned back on her hands.

_ __ _

"Aren't you the same? You're the one that agreed," he said as he looked at her out of the corner of his eye. Her hair had been tied into two buns this time, rather than the braids she had so proudly worn only a few hours before. Why she found this change necessary was beyond him.

_ __ _

Her blue gaze shifted to him. "But you're the one that asked. You know, no one has ever taken an interest in my nonsense; they say it is a fantasy of grief, this magic I speak of." With a sigh, she sat a little straighter and rested her hands in her lap, fingering the gold bands around her wrist. The ring, he noticed, was gone from her finger. 

_ __ _

"Tell me, one who lacks a name, where do you come from?"

_ __ _

As the light of the sun faded, so did most of the lights of the city. The darkness settled in calmly, and as it did so, the woman beside him took more interest in the sky than she did in him. Because of this, he left her question unanswered for some time, where the only sound was that of the soft trickling of the water below them.

_ __ _

The people of Crocea retired early, he noted to himself.

_ __ _

"The kingdom called Furvus," Lack-Two finally replied, softly. He didn't really see why it mattered, but it didn't hurt to tell either. "On the outskirts, where I cannot be bothered with the royals there."

_ __ _

"Furvus? You've come so far then... did you walk here?"

_ __ _

He shot her a look and she merely shrugged innocently, kicking up water with the tip of her toe. "Just curious."

_ __ _

"Because the magic of Furvus's lands has long since died, I grew up believing it was... unreal and unnecessary. And yet, you're so convinced it's real—I simply wish to know if what I was told was wrong."

_ __ _

_Because it may prove many other things wrong as well._ He looked down at his hands as he curled his fingers into a tight fist. Like many times before, a flicker of dim feeling passed through him, but mostly he remained as empty as though there were nothing inside him at all. It was foolish and childish of him to stray from what he had been sent to do, but there was still time, wasn't there? Time for himself.

_ __ _

"I'd be glad to share with you all that I know," the woman said, again reminding him of her ability to pull him out of his own thoughts. "But my knowledge is very limited. I have only been there once—that I can recall, anyway. There is another time that it may have happened, but..."

_ __ _

She pursed her lips, her brows drawing together. Then she shook her head and left her sentence unfinished.

_ __ _

The conversation lapsed into silence. The woman suddenly found great interest in her own hands, lacing her fingers together and pulling them apart again. Occasionally, her gaze landed on him again, but she always looked away just as quickly.

_ __ _

This was the nervousness he always expected from others, and he payed it little mind.

_ __ _

"Say," she finally began again with another one of her soft smiles. "Do you think you could tell me your name now?"

_ __ _

She waited so patiently, it was almost amusing to him. She shifted so quickly from fidgeting in awkward silence to staring him down in such a way that suggested this was how she always got the answers she wanted. 

_ __ _

Rather than enlighten her, he only said, "Persistent, aren't we?"

_ __ _

With a huff, her smile faded to a look of annoyance as she folded her arms over her chest. "Turning my own words against me..."

_ __ _

"Am I wrong?"

_ __ _

The woman shook her head, the ribbons of gold in her hair catching the last fading rays of the sun. With a halfhearted sort of laugh, she got to her feet, pulling up droplets of water with her, and smoothed down her deep blue skirts. "Come with me. I think it's best if I show you what I know."

_ __ _

Lack-Two gazed up at her for sometime, in which she offered to him her hand—though the motion was awkward, and quite obviously a second thought or reflex. He refused it and stood on his own, much to her apparent dismay. She was so strangely innocent and oblivious; he didn't even know there were such people in the world.

_ __ _

"This way." She ventured towards the inner wall and the palace behind it, glancing over her shoulder many times to make sure he followed. And he did. "Behind the wall," she said as he walked at her side, their steps echoing against the cobblestone in the silent air. "There is a place, near the garden, that leads into the forest beyond. I have had the most luck with my search in that area—it's where I found Foongy."

_ __ _

He blinked as his breath caught in his throat. He almost stumbled to a stop, and would have had he not feared losing the woman at the pace she was going. But the idea piqued his interest.

_ __ _

If there was an entrance to the forest, there was a hole in the inner wall. A hole that led directly to the palace, and the Princess he sought.

_ __ _

Perhaps it was his good luck that led him to this woman whom the people called Whitley.

_ __ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really long (especially compared to the length that’s usual for me, which is about 1,000 to 1,500 words…) and perhaps a little boring, but it’s really about small details that are important later on. I do love my small, seemingly unimportant details, after all.
> 
> Some interesting facts about names: Niveus, the kingdom where most of the story takes place, comes from the Latin word which means “white” or “snowy-white.” In contrast to this, Furvus, the kingdom Lack-Two comes from, means “dark” or “obscure.”
> 
> Until next time…


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Life has been quite busy lately and I’m not sure when things will settle down again, but I did manage to finish this chapter and start the next one...

With the wave of her golden bracelets, Whitley was granted access to the portion of the city behind the innermost wall of Crocea. She exchanged a few quick words with the guards, then beckoned for Lack-Two to follow. His fingers itched to grasp the hilt of his blade, but he pushed the urge aside as he passed through the open gate—this one carved with the royal symbol of Niveus.

Behind the inner wall stood the palace with its gardens and courtyards, lit by lanterns hanging on posts, drawing moths to their warm, orange lights. While Lack-Two gazed at the palace and briefly wondered where the Princess could be at that moment, Whitley payed the scenery no mind. When she had stopped and waited for him enough times, she cleared her throat loudly enough to catch his attention.

He turned his gaze to her as she gestured with mock elegance in the direction they were going, as if to remind him of why he had come there at that hour—and that it wasn't to ponder over the Princess and how anyone expected him to get to her. 

"Why were you allowed to pass?" he asked her as they left the smooth stone for a worn, overgrown path with only a few stepping stones to mark its place in the grass. "Through the gate, I mean."

"Hm?" Whitley shot him a look, her bracelets clinking much too noisily on her wrists. "Oh, I, er, live here."

"You live here?" It would explain the vibrant colors of her skirts, the gold ribbons, and fine jewelry she wore. "You're a noble then?"

She stopped so suddenly he almost ran into her, but managed to stop himself in time. She didn't respond for a time, having returned to fiddling with her skirt in her fingers. "I suppose, in a way. But it's more like... like I wait on the Princess."

The fallen leaves crunched beneath her boots and she trekked on, leaving him behind on the path to stare after her in wonder, or perhaps only confusion. The thought struck him that, if she really was what she said she was, then Whitley might just be the key to his task. How lucky it was then that he met her that night.

"Won't she be looking for you then? It's quite late for you to be out." He brushed through overgrown grass and ferns as the entryway to the forest—the hole in the inner wall—grew closer. Whitley stepped through it and stood on the other side, her face spotted with shadows from the canopy of trees above, waiting for him.

"No," she said. "No, I don't think she will."

Her voice oozed with bitter tones, but it was underlaid by sadness and not anger. But it wasn't this that bothered Lack-Two, rather it was her words.

"I see."

"You seem rather talkative—more so than before," she ventured as he stepped through the entryway behind her, his hands brushing against the mossy stone of the wall as he wondered about the hole and who thought it was a great idea to put it there.

It had clearly been there for some time, the overgrown grass and cracked stone matched that of the path that lead towards it and fizzled out past it. And yet he couldn't remember ever having heard of it, nor seen it in a report or with his own eyes before Whitley brought him to it.

_Perhaps it is her magic,_ some little voice in his head whispered, but he dismissed the thought. He had simply not been as thorough as thought, that was all.

"I'm just wondering about you, and why you're so keen to share with me your secrets." His gaze shifted to her and where she still stood but a few feet away, her hands clasped behind her back as she waited for him. "I'm wary of your lack of caution."

"I told you already; you really don't seem dangerous." She waved her hand to dismiss him, as she had done before. It was almost as though she were teasing him, testing him. 

Playing with him.

Lack-Two followed her deeper into the forest, leaving the palace and the light behind. Everything she had told him thus far had been contradictory; first she said she was a thief, then a noble, then simply a servant to the Princess. Only one of those things could be true, and it didn't really matter to him which it was— as long as it was one of the latter, that is. If he could earn her trust, she could get him into the palace—she didn't have to know why, after all she had so quickly accepted that he didn't have a name to give her.

She was much too naive to play the game she had set before him. All the same, he would play. It was but a simple task for him.

They walked on in silence for some time, in which the sun sank ever lower behind the trees and the air grew ever colder. When the sun had disappeared, Whitley came to a stop where the trees thinned out and opened up to a clearing, littered with fallen leaves and footprints left some time ago. She frowned, folding her arms over her chest and muttered to herself.

"I came here," she said, more to herself than to him. "A long time ago." She walked forward, the tall grass shifting as the breeze picked up. Her hand reached out to touch a certain tree, marked with many scars, it's branches already bare. "But have never come back since then."

The tree seemed so oddly familiar to Lack-Two, for a fleeting moment. He made his way towards it, and he too rested his hands against the scarred bark of the old tree. He ignored Whitley's stare as he frowned to himself in thought—almost mirroring her own expression.

Vaguely, he remembered this tree, just as clearly as he could remember the moonlit night and the ring. These scars were made with uneven strikes of a dull blade, but the force behind them still cut deep. 

He shook the lingering thought away as he removed his hand. It really didn't matter. "Is this spot of some significance to your magic forest?"

Whitley sighed as she slid her hand around to the other side of the tree, feeling for something other than scars and rough bark. "Perhaps, but to be honest with you there's only so much I know."

"And still you believe it was real?"

Briefly, she shot him a look. "As real as you seem to think it is as well. Why else why you be here?" She frowned to herself and stepped around the tree, still searching for something, it seemed.

He merely shrugged. It was something he had asked himself before already. It was rather stupid of him—of her, too—and maybe that was what made it so intriguing to him.

Whatever the case may be, whatever his interest in the supposed magic may be, what he really needed to do was find out where he could enter the forest from the outside.

"It's gone." Whitley appeared around the other side of the tree, her round blue eyes wide with wonder. Her hand pulled back from the tree and clutched her other against her chest. "It's really gone."

"What is?"

She left the tree, walking about the clearing with a certain air of... happiness about her. She smiled to herself, and left him without an answer for some time, before she plopped down into a seat in the soft grass. She sighed wistfully to herself as she rested her chin in her hands. "Something I left for someone. To return a favor."

"I see," he said as he turned his gaze to the moon as it grew brighter against the dark sky. The first few stars began to appear, a familiarly old, guiding light.

She had told him she preferred the stars, hadn't she? Some small part of him shared in this thought, but it wasn't the stars he preferred. Rather it was the quiet that the night brought. The silence of the dark.

"There's a legend, in the kingdom of Kileus, about beasts of the stars," Whitley spoke up, bringing him back to reality. She smoothed her skirts over her legs as the cold of the night settled in. "Did you know they are said to be benevolent spirits? They guide fate, they say."

"Yes, I have heard." 

"Foongy is a forest guardian," she went on to say, idly picking at blades of grass and twirling them in her fingers. Her back was turned to him, but by her voice he could tell she was smiling. "I found him in the magic forest—in a patch of fungi, hence his name."

"How very creative."

She discarded the grass when it no longer entertained her. She brushed off her hands as she pushed herself to her feet, and breathed in the cool air. When she fell still again, she spoke, "I don't know how to look for the forest. It simply appears when it wishes. But I will know when it shows itself, but I can't describe it to you. It's... just something you must see for yourself." She glanced at him over her shoulder, the gold ribbons in her hair shining in the moonlight.

From the way she looked at him, he gathered there were things she knew that she wasn't sharing. Perhaps, he told himself, she wasn't quite as naive as she seemed.

"So then, _one who lacks a name,_" she said with a teasing smile as she approached him, her steps light across the grass. "Have we decided to trust each other—truly?"

He met her eyes and still found that look of someone who was not sharing all she knew, but rather than be alarmed, he was simply intrigued. "I will help you look for this forest of yours, if you promise to do something in return for me." He offered his hand to her, and she looked at it with the same spark of wonder from before. 

Without hesitation, she took his hand and gripped it firmly before she shook it, her gold bracelets rattling together on her wrist. Her smile was bright as she agreed to his conditions.

She released him with a sort of chuckle, turning her gaze somewhere else. "Well then... shall we—shall we go back now? It's getting late and the guards— the Princess will be looking for me. I can walk you back before that, though."

"Just show me the way back to the city, I can take it from there." Lack-Two slid his hands into his pockets, hidden beneath his cloak. 

Whitley turned back the way they had come. With no more gestures, nor fidgeting, she began to walk calmly and confidently, with her head held high. As though she believed the forest was hers to command. "This way then."

And he followed her, leaving behind the old, scarred tree in the clearing.

All the while he wondered if what they had created was really trust.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whitley makes an important discovery about her supposed magic forest, whilst Lack-Two is distracted by his missing memories.

A full day passed by before Lack-Two saw Whitley again. He would have liked to say he was unbothered by this, but the hours seem to drag by too slowly for his liking and it seemed every thought somehow circled back around to his itching curiosity of her and her crazy idea of magic forests.

A day to himself did him no use. It only dragged the scarred tree and his empty memories of it to the forefront of his mind, which made him much too easily distractable.

The morning following his unproductive and painfully slow-moving day, he was rather relieved to spot her standing idly by the gates to the inner wall. Her usual dismissive greeting of "there's something I want to show you" was all the more welcome to him, and he didn't mind when her fingers closed firmly around his wrist and pulled him beyond the gate he otherwise shouldn't have been allowed to pass through.

"I have a point to prove today," she said with a short glance back at him, an almost nervous look in her eyes. "And because you agreed to help me find this magic, you're not going to like what I have to show you."

She guided him down the street and into the courtyard of the castle, disregarding questioning stares from passing servants and guards as though they had no right to wonder why she would bring a stranger into their midst. Lack-Two made careful note of the way they didn't stop her, nor even approach her.

Leading him through the courtyard and down a hall lined with paintings and old tapestries on one wall and windows on another, Whitley couldn't be bothered to answer any questions he had. She wouldn't even say where exactly they were going, and only let go of him when she came to a stop in front of a certain set of doors in a section of the castle where the numbers of servants had dwindled down to just two or three passing by on their way to someplace else.

"This is the library," she told him, pushing the doors open and gesturing for him to enter the white-floored room. "There's an old map I think you should see."

He nodded silently as she left him standing in the doorway, disappearing behind tall shelves of rows upon rows of books. Some had faded words on their spines, while others had nothing to tell him what knowledge they might hold; as though their words had been rubbed off by someone who opened them constantly. His steps echoed in the hollowly empty room as he made his way farther inside, letting his hand slide across the books. 

The library was lit by candles and lanterns placed in very specific spots around the room, but there was also a light overhead. It was lacking in the same blues the rest of the castle had, but still held much of the same gold trimmings and embellishments. At the far wall were windows which overlooked the garden and the forest beyond.

The sound of paper cut through the silence as Whitley returned with several different scrolls and bound documents in her arms, her lips set in a tight frown. She dumped everything on the nearest table with a sigh, taking the closest roll of paper and spreading it out across the table, smoothing it back down when it tried to roll up again. Her head shot up as she slapped her hand down on the persistent edge of the paper and she met his eye with a look of frustration—directed at the paper, he could only assume.

"Come over here, you can't see what I have to show you from way over there." When he didn't move, she frowned again—mockingly—and added, "You know I don't bite, right?"

"I couldn't be afraid of you," he said, returning his gaze to the books his hand rested against. "You're like... a lost, little puppy."

She rolled her eyes, muttering to herself. "I've been staring at these maps of Niveus and the other kingdoms for years and there's no mention of the forest. I think I've looked through every book available to me, still nothing." Pulling a pencil from a pocket in her azure-colored skirts, she leaned over the map and drew a circle in a certain spot, near the palace of Niveus—the same place where she had told him she believed the magic forest to be.

He shot her a glance from the corner of his eye, finally making his way towards her as she stared proudly at her sloppy-looking circle. "Are you sure you should be drawing on that?"

She waved his question away. "It's fine. Don't worry about it." Then, returning to the subject of importance, she said, "But see how there's this mark, in my circle?"

He looked at her, then at her map and the section inside the circle. It had the same clean lines drawing out the forest around Crocea as outside the circle, and although it wasn't labeled as anything like the cities, towns, and seas were, there wasn't any sort of defining mark. "No."

Idly, she smudged at the edge of her circle with her thumb. "It's there, in the center. When I was there before, I noticed something about the sky of the magic forest." She pulled another scroll from her pile on the other edge of the table and spread it over the top of the map, revealing a darkly colored chart of stars and constellations. "These are the constellations most commonly seen at this time of year. None of these appeared in the sky when I was there."

"So the sky is different, and it doesn't appear on the map," he said as she pulled back the star chart and carefully rolled it up and tied it closed with a white cord. "What are you trying to say?"

"I told you you wouldn't like it," she answered simply, with a glance at him before setting the chart aside and returning her attention to rolling up the map. "Yesterday afternoon, I was thinking about it more than usual and I began to wonder if it isn't just magic, but rather a different world altogether."

"A different world?" Some part of him knew it made more sense that way, but at the same time he grew up in a place where the magic had been dead for many years, surrounded by people who didn't care if it existed still. He wasn't sure he could ever really understand any of what she was so convinced of, and yet he couldn't take his mind off it.

And he wondered if she was the same; stuck thinking about something that really didn't matter in the long run.

_A fantasy of grief_ she had called it.

He watched her for a moment when she paused in her movement, her fingers closing tightly around the map in her hands. She shook her head and set it aside, taking a deep breath and dusting her hands off before rubbing them on her skirts. "Well, anyway. I don't have time to waste today—lots of coronation things to do. You can stay here for awhile if you'd like, and don't worry about cleaning up after yourself. I'll do it later."

"I don't think I should stay here by myself," he said. "If I get caught, who would believe me if I told them the lady-in-waiting let me in?"

A sort of smile made its way to her face and she laughed to herself, clasping her hands together to give them something to do. "You make a fair point. Then..." she slipped one of her bracelets off her wrist and put it in his hands, giving his fingers a little pat to close them around the piece of jewelry. "Now you can show them that and they'll know."

"And what if someone claims I stole it?"

"You're not a thief, remember? I'm the thief." With a little wave of farewell, she left the room, pulling the doors shut behind herself.

He slipped the bracelet onto his wrist, fingering the letters engraved in its surface, although he couldn't make out what they were. 

The more he thought about her, the more it almost seemed like she was testing him. Waiting for him to do something; though what, he wasn't sure.

Maybe he was imagining it.

When she was long gone, he wandered aimlessly around the library for several minutes, lost in useless thoughts, letting his hands drift across the titles and labels of the scrolls and books and other documents, before finally deciding there was nothing else he wanted to look at. It seemed rather odd to be in the place he had been trying to get to for several days and yet be unable to care, nor find the desire to do anything he'd been told to do anymore. 

Thus he left, as simple as that. As Whitley had said, he went unbothered by anyone, reaffirming his suspicion that the bracelet was some sort of key. Why she needed four of them if just one had done the trick for him, he had never bothered to ask.

He found himself following the same worn path she had led him on the other day, towards the hole in the inner wall. The sun above had fallen lower in the cloudless blue sky, marking it as late afternoon as he reached the stone wall and passed through it. It felt different without her there as a guide, but he was confident in his own memory. It had always served him well in the past.

_Usually._ As long as he remembered what he was told to remember. Anything else was best forgotten.

His wandering brought him the clearing with the scarred tree he could only barely remember. He was left with a vague and annoying feeling, a tug in the back of his mind, that he had been there before. Maybe it was just her fascination with it that convinced him of this, but standing there under the bare limbs and staring at a familiar scar on the trunk, he wasn't sure.

"I was here," he told himself, brushing his fingers against the scar, feeling the rough edges of the bark as he traced the outline of it. "A long time ago."

Sliding his dagger from its sheath, he lined it up with the most peculiar scar and frowned to himself. It fit perfectly in the scratch, but it could have meant nothing at all. The knife had been a gift for him when he turned twelve, but it's size and shape was common in Furvus and Iena—possibly Niveus too. And yet, the more he looked at it and shifted it, the more right it seemed.

With a sigh, he returned the knife to its sheath, cutting off his thoughts before he got anywhere with them. "I thought you had coronation-related duties to attend to."

Standing at the edge of the line of trees was Whitley with Foongy at her heels and her cloak draped over her shoulders, just as she had been when he met her. She didn't seem surprised to have been caught following him, rather she seemed as though she expected it. 

"I do, but I've delayed them this long. What's a little longer?"

He sat down at the base of the tree, leaning back on his hands and tilting his head to look at her. "I'm beginning to think there isn't really a Princess for you to attend to."

"Would you be sad if that were true?" she asked. "You seem rather unusually interested in her. Did you really come here to charm her? I'll have you know she's not interested."

"I'm not much of a charmer," he said as she approached him and sat beside him, her hands in her lap and her gaze locked on him. "I think, if there really wasn't a Princess, I would be... more relieved than anything else." 

"Why's that?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." 

She turned her gaze to the tree, brushing her hair over her shoulders as she pondered over her next words. "I'd believe you. You'll probably find this stupid of me, but... I really do think I trust you."

He could have laughed at the thought of being trusted if it weren't for the fact that he had no energy for laughing, nor the heart for it. It was laughable, yes, he hadn't been trusted by anyone in years; or maybe ever. But it also stung; it hurt like nothing else ever could, and he couldn't even begin to express why. 

It seemed to him that that feeling he had was more laughable than how easily she trusted.

"I think that's unwise," he muttered, slipping her bracelet off his wrist nonchalantly and holding it out for her. "But I can't stop you."

She plucked it from his grasp, twirling the bracelet in her fingers as he stood up and slipped his hands into his pockets. "Would you say we're friends then?"

"I wouldn't know," he said. "Besides, you don't even know my name."

"It doesn't really matter in the end, I can know a person without ever knowing their name." She sat up on her knees, slipping the bracelet over her hand and onto her own wrist to join the other one before standing, brushing stray pieces of grass from her skirt. "But it would be nice of you to share."

Lack-Two held her gaze for a moment longer before shaking his head and making his way back to the hole in the wall.

If she continued in her persistence, she would learn soon enough.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they make excuses, say goodbye, and tell the truth.

There is little to discover about something nobody can even find, and there is little to share about something nobody knows anything about.

Thus, the adventure to find the supposed magic forest of Niveus became an excuse for Whitely to leave the palace and for Lack-Two to not do what he was told to do.

Or, as he told himself daily, he was doing exactly what he was told—but even he knew this was only an excuse. The longer he talked to Whitely, and the longer he spent in her presence, the more he began to decide for himself that she truly had lied to him. It wasn't that he felt offended—rather he might have been impressed—but the pieces fit better together when the truth was laid at his feet.

And even with this new discovery of his, he never could draw his weapon against her. He never could do what he was told to do.

How useless of him.

The sun had set long ago, leaving the sky dark and the streets empty, save for the royal guards at their posts. The following day would be the one the so-called Whitley had avoided dwelling on at all costs—and even now she was still avoiding it, by standing beneath that same scarred tree, the one she couldn't stop herself from returning to. 

Lack-Two was there too, despite the hour, wrapped in his own thoughts. He hadn't said a word, and this didn't seem to bother her in the slightest. Sometimes, she talked enough for two people, anyway. He occupied himself by staring at the moon and wondering how it came to be that time had passed by so quickly. Like sand which slipped through his fingers, he couldn't hold on to time for very long.

Then finally, he said, "I'll be leaving in the morning."

She shot him a wide-eyed glance over her shoulder, absently rubbing the place on her finger where her ring should have been. He had never mentioned leaving so early before—unless she had missed it entirely. "Funny," she decided to say, breaking the uncomfortable silence with a halfhearted laugh. "Usually, when people come to see a Princess crowned, they stay until _after_ it is done."

He smiled to himself, as though amused by the nonchalance of her tone, but the way he folded his arms over his chest and looked away said something else entirely. "I've decided for myself, and it's best for you if I'm not here tomorrow."

"Thinking of me? How sweet of you." But she didn't like the way he frowned when he did meet her eye. With a sigh, she turned to face him, lowering her hands to her side and listening to the familiar sound of her bracelets on her wrist. It wasn't a good time for jokes, but she felt so at ease in his presence that it was all she could find the will to do. She hated herself for it, but it was how they relayed information. Or so she told herself, over and over.

"I've never bothered to bring this up before," she began in a low tone, "but you're no ordinary traveler from Furvus, are you?"

She half expected him to tense up and deny it, or brush her off entirely as he had sometimes done with personal questions before, but he didn't do either of these things. Rather, he laughed—really, truly _laughed_—and despite how hollow and empty it sounded in the night air, she was taken aback all the same. 

He didn't laugh very often.

With a grin, sliding his hands into the pockets behind his cloak, he looked at her and said, "No, but I wish I could say I was. For your sake and mine."

"You can say whatever you want," she stated matter-of-factly, clasping her hands behind her back and stepping closer to him. "Nobody's stopping you."

His expression faded back into the familiar blank one, the one that barred her from seeing anything human in his face. A soft, almost wistful sigh escaped his lips. "But then I'd be lying, and I don't want to lie to you anymore."

Whitley blinked, unconsciously holding her breath as she waited for him to disregard his own words, but he didn't. He seemed, instead, to discover something fascinating in his cloak and trained his gaze on it as he lifted the hem of it up in his hands. She didn't know exactly what caused the little flutter in her chest—whether it was nervousness, or maybe finally a show of fear, or maybe something else entirely. Something else she would rather not admit to herself nor anyone else.

"I-is that so?" She bit her lip and fiddled with her bracelets. That one, short statement had made her feel wrong. The truth sat on the tip of her tongue, the one she had tried to hide for so long in the hopes of being regarded by him as the same as everyone else, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything. Her lips remained sealed.

She remained as Whitley, a lady-in-waiting to some quietly mysterious princess of Niveus.

"Anyways," he finally said, lifting his gaze to meet her eye. "I thought I'd let you know—I heard one time it's quite rude to disappear without notice." He hesitated, his brow furrowing as he frowned at his own thoughts. He shook his head and dismissed his unspoken words. "So then, this is goodbye." Holding out his hand to her, he seemed more open—even if it was for just a moment in her mind.

She took his hand, unable to say anything for a long time. All the things she wanted to tell him were right there, at the forefront of her mind, but she couldn't get them out. She stood there, frozen and silent, until his warm touch left her and he passed by her, the moonlight glinting off of something hidden beneath his cloak.

Drawing in a deep breath and mustering her courage, she lifted her chin and called out to him, "Whi-Two."

His footsteps came to a halt.

Spinning around to face him, she caught his curious gaze. Her hand closed around one of her four bracelets and she pressed her lips into a thin line. "It's Whi-Two. I'm Whi-Two, Niveus's... foolish Princess—you know, the one you... came all this way to see."

Again, his lips curled up in a smile—one that mocked her, she was certain. "I know," he said, as though it were something so simple. As though something she thought of as an earth-shattering development was merely another fact to him, something he already knew.

She had never been a very good liar.

"And you?" She asked, taking determined steps toward him and standing almost nose-to-nose with him. Jabbing a finger at his chest, she dared to bring the subject up again. "Aren't you going to tell me your name now?"

He lifted a hand and merely patted her on the shoulder before he stepped away, the stupidest little smirk on his face. "No," he said smugly, "No, I don't think I will. I'd rather stay as some mystery to you until you forget all about me."

She wanted to be angry, or frustrated with him at the very least, but all she could do was laugh a little to herself. She hoped maybe he would take a trade; a truth for a truth, but it seemed even that wasn't enough. With a sigh, she caught his hand as he went to pull away and pressed one of her four bracelets into his palm, closing his fingers around the cool metal. "So that you can always come back, and I'll remember you if you do."

Again, his steps halted, and he took the time to examine her gift before he slipped it onto his wrist. He said nothing, knowing she had more to say herself. So he waited a while longer, his fingers lingering against the bracelet perhaps longer than he intended.

"And, if you do, I can always find you. Oh! But the next time you come back, you have to tell me your name. I'm making it a decree—and, you have to do what I say."

"Ah, but you see, I'm from Furvus." He dismissed her disappointed stare with a nonchalant wave. "I don't have to listen to the royals of Niveus."

Not that he ever listened to the royals of Furvus.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but he had this persistent talent of not caring. With a huff, she gave up. "Fine then, fine. Goodbye, travel safely, and come back sometime."

He fell silent for several seconds, which inched by at a pace that made them feel like hours to Whi-Two. But finally, he murmured, "I can make no such promises."

It was with those words that he left her there beneath the pale, silver moonlight and the stars which she loved. The very thing that had brought her to him in the first place had finally been forgotten, and she couldn't quite remember when she had begun to use it as excuse to be in his presence, but somewhere along the line she had.

It struck her all too suddenly that he said he had known, for who knows how long, that she was actually the very Princess she talked about with such disdain. And she puzzled over this, for if he had known he had never bothered to display this.

With a soft smile, her gaze locked on her wrist which held only one gold band now, she dwelled fondly on this silly little detail. She went to sleep late that night, wrapped in her own memories and wondering when—if—she would see him again.

Princess Whi-Two of Niveus was blissfully ignorant.

As for Lack-Two, who stood outside the gates of the city and looking aimlessly in the direction of the palace, he knew he could not come back. To defy his orders was to stand at death's door and knock, practically begging to be struck down. Whi-Two, the very person he had been sent to kill, had been within his grasp the entire time and he hadn't even tried to draw his blade against her. 

He had been told long ago that he should never think for himself, and when he had begun to do so those few days ago he had realized why.

When he decided for himself, he became useless as a puppet, and the master had no need for someone who would not obey.

_Regardless,_ he told himself with a shrug, dragging his gaze away from the palace to finally face the road before him. _It's better this way._

That too was an excuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to get back into a consistent update schedule, since I’m so close to the end now. Thanks for reading!


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